


Wish Upon a Shooting Star

by PenguinofProse



Series: S4 Time Jump AUs [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Episode: s04e12 The Chosen, Episode: s04e13 Praimfaya - Time Jump, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I have a time jump obsession don't judge, Radio Calls, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24241372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: AU of the S4 time jump. In which Bellamy doesn't want Clarke to come with him to fetch Raven, and the two of them part on poor terms. Angst to fluff with a happy ending.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: S4 Time Jump AUs [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764070
Comments: 25
Kudos: 196





	Wish Upon a Shooting Star

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to another completely unnecessary S4 time jump canon divergence! This starts out at the beginning of "The Chosen". Happy reading!

Clarke wishes things were different.

That's it, isn't it? That's her life in a nutshell. She wishes the Earth wasn't burning, and she wishes she wasn't condemned to live the next five years in a crowded hole in the ground.

More than anything else, in this moment, she wishes that Bellamy Blake didn't hate her very guts.

He hasn't even looked at her since she pulled that gun on him. And now he's about to go to the island to fetch Raven, and he's refusing point blank to let Clarke come along. She supposes this is another moment where even waving a pistol at him wouldn't change his mind.

"You're not coming with me, Clarke." His face looks like she remembers from the day he tried to handcuff her, and she doesn't like it. That's the face that means he feels thoroughly betrayed.

"Yes I am. You should take me with you, I know the way to the island. And you don't know what might happen out there."

"Nothing that one girl with a pistol will fix." He tells her, hitting where he must know it will hurt the most. "Emori knows the island, she's coming with me. We're done here."

"We are not _done here_. We're done when I say we're done."

"You're not the Chancellor, Clarke." He sounds tired, and disappointed in her.

"You're done when _I_ say you're done." Octavia interrupts. "Or have you forgotten I won the conclave? Go or don't go, Clarke, but stop arguing about it here. We have things to do."

Bellamy takes that as his dismissal and leaves the room, heading along the hallway that leads in the direction of hazmat suits, the door, and ultimately the island.

Clarke follows him. It's the only sensible thing to do, she figures. He really ought to take her along with him. She meant what she said about knowing the island. And, sure, she's not all that useful in a fight but she is good at thinking on her feet, and he might need that, out there. She doesn't like the idea of him getting into any trouble, OK? She didn't not shoot him just for him to die now.

…...

Bellamy wishes Clarke would get the hell away from him. It's like she's stalking him down the corridor, some spectre of everything he used to wish for, come to taunt him with his own stupidity. He doesn't need reminding that he evidently has terrible taste in women, thank you very much. He doesn't need reminding that he was half way in love with someone who would lock his sister out to die, lock him up to keep it that way, and then threaten to shoot him for good measure.

He can't believe he used to think he wanted some naive happily-ever-after with this monster.

And, apart from anything else, he wishes she would stop following him around like this. It would be one thing if she would actually straight-up apologise. But instead she's obviously feeling deeply guilty but is expressing it by _not leaving him the hell alone_.

"I don't want anything to happen to you out there." She is bleating now, trotting along the corridor and struggling to keep up with his pace.

"Should have thought of that before you had me shock-lashed, huh?"

"I didn't – that wasn't -"

"Go home, Clarke. I'm sure Dr Griffin has already set aside a bunk with your name on it."

"I'm not going home." She tries to take a stand, yet again, but it's rather undermined by the way they're half-jogging down the hall. "I'm coming with you to the island and that's final."

He admits defeat, at last. Not on the matter of her joining him, but on the matter of them having this out whilst they walk. He comes to a halt, and turns to look her right in the eye.

"You heard my sister, Clarke. She won the conclave. Now am I going to have her order you to stay here, or are you going to get the hell away from me?"

He knows he's won, then. She crumples, much like she did whilst waving that gun at him earlier, and takes a step back from him. And then he strides on down the corridor and she does not follow him, but merely whispers an anguished _take care_ at his retreating back.

He knows he's won, but he just wishes the victory didn't feel so hollow.

…...

Clarke can deal with this. It's not the worst thing that's ever happened to her. No one is dead – apart from all the people who are dead, obviously. God, that was a stupid way to try to rationalise the situation.

Her reasoning skills don't seem to be much use, just now.

It's going to be OK. She's a problem solver, and a leader. It's just a shame she can't seem to solve this particular problem, and that she isn't in charge here any more, as Octavia and Bellamy have so thoroughly reminded her.

She wishes she'd had more faith in Octavia. None of this would have happened, then. When she gets back to Octavia's headquarters and finds that the meeting seems to have disbanded, that's where she decides to start.

"I'm sorry, Octavia. I should have had more faith in you. Your brother really believed in you, and I let you both down."

Octavia looks at her like she's lost her mind. "That doesn't sound like you, Clarke. Having faith that a seventeen-year-old Skygirl could win the conclave? That's too naive for you. That's something only my brother would do, and for good reason."

Well, now. This leaves her stumped. "I was trying to apologise."

"Yeah. I know." Octavia sighs. "Look, Clarke. I might not like you very much just now, but we're going to need each other if we're going to survive. I may have won the conclave, but you know how to lead. Don't leave me for dead again, and I won't hold this against you."

"Thanks. That's – that's kind of you."

"I'm not doing this to be kind. I'm doing this to survive." Octavia makes a point of looking her right in the eye. "You taught me that."

…...

Bellamy is distracted as he drives through the eerie forest and tries to go as fast as can plausibly be deemed safe. He's distracted by his anger at Clarke, and distracted by anger at himself for being so stupid as to fall for her. It's a good thing she stayed back in the bunker, he decides easily. Because if she was here she'd probably still be pestering him, and that would be even worse for his focus.

So, yes, he's distracted, but not too distracted to drive, at least. There's a moment when things could have turned bad, he notes, when some grounders spring an ambush, but he manages to bring the rover safely to a stop before he joins the fray.

Then, of all things, Echo shows up to save them.

There's some debate, after that. Debate as to whether they should take Echo with them, or leave her for dead. Emori and Murphy are all for getting out of here and leaving her behind, unsurprisingly.

Bellamy finds himself wondering what Clarke would do.

He hates himself for that. But he hates himself even more when he decides that Clarke would save Echo, and next thing he knows he is doing exactly that same thing.

Why is he still looking to Clarke for moral guidance, when she's not even here and recently left his sister for dead? When she recently put his life on the line like she did?

That's the problem, he decides, shoving Echo none-too-gently into the back of the rover and starting to drive again.

He will always look to Clarke, for everything. And look at the thanks he gets.

…...

Clarke wants to be happy to see Monty and Harper. Really, she does, and she tries very hard to arrange her face into a smile when they make it to Polis and almost fall, exhausted and emotional, through the door. But these are just another two people who will not fit in the bunker, two more souls she condemned because she was too weak to kill Bellamy.

Maybe love is weakness, after all.

She wishes things were different, but she doesn't know exactly how she would act differently. She couldn't shoot Bellamy, obviously. That's a given. So no matter how she looks at it, no matter which hypothetical scenario she works through in her head, they always end up here. With death bearing down on them, and not enough beds in the bunker.

"We have to tell them they can't stay." Clarke frets to Octavia, her first duty as Octavia's right-hand-woman and unofficial consultant on impossible choices.

"I'm not telling them that."

"Then I'll tell them." Clarke hauls herself to her feet. It looks like the day from hell is only getting worse.

"That's not what I meant, Clarke. Sit down. I'm going to tell them they can stay until my brother gets back with Raven. Just – in case they don't get back. So we don't waste the spots." She swallows thickly. "If anything happens to them, I think they'd want Monty and Harper to have their spaces."

"Nothing is happening to him." Clarke practically spits the words.

Octavia looks at her sadly. "I have a lot of faith in my brother. But I wish I had half as much faith in him as you do."

…...

They're only about three-quarters of the way to the island when Bellamy realises they're in trouble. It's been a slightly slower journey because of the snow on the ground, and then that ambush held them up further.

They might not make it back.

They're currently on schedule, but just barely. They literally haven't a second to waste, and if their calculations for when the death wave might hit Polis are wrong by so much as a minute, they will burn to death.

It's a sobering realisation, and one that has him thinking of Clarke, just for a moment. Wondering whether perhaps he ought to at least have said goodbye to her.

No. He mustn't think like that. He needs to decide what to do. He may not have the strategic mind of – well, of someone he's trying very hard not to think about right now. But he's the closest thing to a leader this mismatched group has.

It's Murphy who gives him the idea, in the end. Bellamy overhears him grumbling away in the back of the rover, something about how he wishes Raven could have decided not to take that damn rocket and float herself _before_ they had only hours left to live.

There's a rocket on the island.

He radios Raven, then, aware that his plan is absurd, but suspecting it might be the best they're going to get. If Clarke were here, no doubt she'd pick a thousand holes in it. But she's not here, of course, and that's a good thing – has he mentioned recently that she's a monster?

"Raven?"

"Bellamy, hey. How's it going?"

"Could be better. We're running a little later than I'd like. Tell me – can that rocket fly?"

"It's a rocket, Blake. Of course it can fly."

"Great. Get it ready. I think we might be needing it."

There is a long silence on the other end of the line, and then - "What are you trying to say?"

"They left the Geo-Sci Ring up in orbit, right? We can escape to that. Because I don't think we're going to have enough time to get back to Polis."

"They didn't leave a working oxygen scrubber up there, Bellamy. And we'd have nothing to eat until we got the algae farm running – and can any of us even operate an algae farm? Not to mention we don't have enough fuel to get back again -"

"You're Raven Reyes. You'll figure it out. I figure you've got, what, twelve hours until we need to leave?"

"If we're lucky."

"We're never lucky. Let's call it eleven."

…...

Clarke hasn't been sitting by the radio since Bellamy left. No, she's been sitting in Octavia's office, because she's committed to helping Octavia in any way she can, now. The fact that Octavia's office happens to contain the radio is neither here nor there.

Anyway, she did manage to go help out in med bay at one point. She stayed away from the comms desk for an entire hour.

So, really, her point stands. But even if she had been hanging around the radio – which she hasn't, of course – there would be no point. They haven't heard from Bellamy since he shut the door behind him.

By the time they do hear his voice, he has only ten hours left on the clock.

"You'd better be on your way home, big brother." Octavia says by way of greeting.

"That's why I'm calling." A beat of silence. "We're not coming home."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Octavia sounds terrifying, and in this moment Clarke can see how this slight girl won a conclave.

"We haven't got time to get home. We only just got here. So we're going to take Becca's rocket and ride out the radiation on the Geo-Sci ring."

Clarke doesn't actually pass out from shock and terror. She thinks she probably would have done, had she received news like this a couple of years ago, but the going has been tough, recently, and she's grown worryingly acclimatised to receiving bad news.

"That's insane." Octavia informs him, sounding incredibly angry.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is a little insane. But we haven't got a choice, O. We haven't got time to get back to you, and we do have time to do a thorough job of getting the rocket ready and running the pre-flight checks. Emori and Murphy have gone to get an oxygen scrubber. Raven's pretty optimistic."

"Then she's an idiot."

"Come on, O. You know that's not true."

"Yeah, I do. I just – you're going to _space_ for five years?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we are."

Clarke watches Octavia swallow slowly. "I'm not sure I'm up for this, Bell. Doing this without you. I've got Clarke – I might not like to admit it but I'm pleased she's here." She shoots Clarke a reluctant smile at that.

Bellamy is not smiling. She can hear it in his tone. In fact, he sounds more like he is snarling. "Don't lean on her too much, O. She doesn't always make the best choices. You know she -"

"None of us does, Bell." Octavia interrupts him. "None of us makes the best choices every damn time, and certainly not when there are no good choices to make. She did what she thought she had to do and I've already moved on. I have to. Now are you going to say goodbye to her or not? Am I handing you over to her?"

"She's there?" That catches him by surprise, she can tell.

"Of course she's here. She's been here every second since you left."

The silence stretches out, and Clarke dares to reach a tentative hand towards the radio. Surely, he will say yes? She will get her chance to apologise before the radiation separates them for five years?

"I'm not speaking to her." Bellamy's voice comes back over the radio, cold and resolute. "I have nothing to say to her. I called to say goodbye to you."

Clarke does not hang around to hear their touching farewell. She runs from the room, and seeks out a supply closet to cry in.

She doesn't look much like the great Wanheda now, she thinks sourly, as the tears roll down her cheeks. She looks just like what she is – a lost teenage girl, wishing she could live a different life.

…...

Bellamy concentrates very hard as he helps Raven to get the rocket ready. He devotes a great deal of attention to fixing the restraints, and then he focuses carefully on working out how much food and water they will need. He concentrates like this because these things are essential to their survival, and he needs to do a perfect job of them.

But he concentrates, too, because it is better than thinking about Clarke.

Of course she has been by Octavia's side ever since he left. That's typical guilty Clarke – she hangs around and worries at the wound and just makes the situation more painful for everyone. So naturally she has been in Octavia's office looking regretful and apologetic.

There is no point in considering any other interpretation of events. There is no sense in wondering whether she was hanging around hoping to hear from him on the radio. And it would be madness to let himself contemplate the idea that she might be watching over his sister in his absence.

If he lets himself think things like that, he'll go and fall in love with her all over again.

That wouldn't do either of them any good. They're not speaking to each other, and that's that.

Only that's not quite right, is it? He's the one who's refusing to speak to her. She was there, next to Octavia, presumably ready to take over at the radio. For one, torturous moment, he allows himself to imagine how she might have felt on hearing him refuse to speak to her. Was she upset? Did she shed any tears over him?

No. That's _madness_. She probably doesn't care at all. If she cares so little about locking him up, and condemning his sister to death, surely she cannot be too troubled by him giving her the silent treatment.

He refocuses carefully on loading a crate of rations into the rocket.

"You OK?" Raven asks him, all concern. "You need to take a minute to go speak to your sister again or something?"

He must be a worse actor than he hoped. "No, I'm good. I've already said goodbye to her. I want to focus on getting this rocket ready now."

Raven frowns a little. "And you've said goodbye to Clarke, right? Why am I even asking, of course you've said goodbye to Clarke."

He swallows, uncomfortable. He should just lie about it, but he cannot seem to get the words past his teeth.

"You _haven't_ said goodbye to Clarke? For God's sake, Bellamy, we're about to fly to space for five years on a hundred year old rocket. If ever there was a time to tell her how you -"

"It's complicated." He interrupts, reaching forward to heft another crate.

"It's always complicated with you two. But you don't want to spend the next five years wishing you'd told her while you had the chance."

…...

Clarke just wishes she'd told Bellamy how she feels about him while she had the chance.

She's still not sure exactly how she does feel about him, to be fair. She's been trying very hard not to fall in love, because it seems to go wrong for her with alarming regularity. But she can't really see another explanation for her absolute obsession with his safety and wellbeing, and for the fact that she couldn't bear to shoot that gun at him.

It's too late, now. He's out there, without her. And he's about to fly to space, without her, and live there, without her.

It turns out it's pretty difficult to tell someone how you feel about them when they're hundreds of miles away and won't even speak to you.

Eventually, she stops crying in her storage closet and gets back to Octavia's office. She needs to look useful, she resolves, and prove to Octavia that she did the right thing by agreeing to move on from her betrayal at the conclave.

"I'm sorry." Octavia says, the moment Clarke walks in the door.

She looks about, confused. Was that apology really meant for her? "What have you got to be sorry for? I'm the one who came up with the idea to take this place."

Octavia fixes her with a hard stare. "I'm sorry my brother's an idiot. I'm sorry he's too worked up and angry to see what's right in front of his nose. He's an idiot to the people he loves most of all, sometimes. I would know."

Clarke isn't sure how to process that implication, so she picks up a datapad and starts reading through some information about the hydrofarm to distract herself from the unexpected magnitude of this conversation. "I get it, Octavia. It's OK. I made a choice and I have to accept the consequences."

"You know he made me swear that I'd make sure you got one of the spaces? Before he left, he made me promise it. He may be angry with you, Clarke, but somewhere underneath that you're still important to him."

That news ought to be comforting, Clarke thinks. She's supposed to find Octavia's story reassuring.

The problem is, she's not actually convinced Octavia's telling the truth.

…...

Bellamy is still focusing. Really, he is. Only he's running out of things to focus on, now that the rocket is nearly ready and they're fast approaching the time to leave.

"We should do oxygen tanks next." Raven says as she passes him, on her way from one task to another. "We're nearly ready. We're making good time – the death wave still hasn't hit Polis yet."

"When will it get there?" He asks, trying to pretend that he's not obsessing over any and all news of the Polis bunker.

"About ten minutes, based on what the drones are saying." Raven tells him, then continues on her way, oblivious to the turmoil she leaves in her wake.

Ten minutes. He's got ten minutes, until his little sister and the woman he used to love are engulfed in flames. Sure, they're buried under several feet of concrete, but he's freaking out all the same.

At least he said goodbye to Octavia. That's what matters. He told her he loved her, and they had a good long talk, and actually, he feels like they've left things in a good place. He's hoping the radios will still work from space, obviously, but for now he is happy to keep working on their preparations, safe in the knowledge that his sister knows he loves her.

Clarke, of course, still doesn't know he has ever loved her.

No. He's not supposed to be thinking about that. Only he can't seem to help it, and he keeps getting distracted by wondering how she's coping, feeling all hopeless and guilty, buried beneath the floor. He can still remember the last time she felt hopeless and guilty – she ended up running away, and he ended up killing three hundred innocent allies.

When he looks at it like that, reconciling with Clarke would be a sensible move for the common good. He doesn't have to break down like some pathetic sap and tell her how he used to feel, or anything. He just has to let her say she's sorry, and tell her he accepts her apology, and wish her a peaceful five years in case they can't talk on the radio.

Only then he starts wondering – what will it be like if they can't talk on the radio? Will he survive five years without her to tell him when he's not thinking straight? Will she survive five years, without him around to draw out her more human side?

It gets worse, after that. What if it's not only that they can't talk? What if something goes wrong with the rocket? What if he actually goes and _dies_ , and she never gets to hear him say he accepts her apology?

What if he dies, and she never knows he loved her at all?

That has him realising something that's been simmering in the back of his mind all this time. That somehow, however angry he is with her, he's still wishing for a future for the two of them when all this is over. That even as he was condemning her as a monster, he was dreaming of the days when the radiation would be done and he might get to forgive her and fall in love with her all over again.

He drops a spanner on the floor. He doesn't entirely remember picking up a spanner, but that's not what matters now. He needs to get to that radio. He needs to put this right before it's too late. He must have mere minutes left on the clock, now, before the death wave hits Polis.

He has never run thirty feet so fast in his life.

"This is the island, calling Polis." He is breathless, but he gets the words out.

"Bellamy?" His sister picks up right away.

"O. Hey. Is Clarke there?"

He can hear the smile in her voice as she answers. "Of course she is. You want to talk to her?"

"Please."

"Bellamy?" Clarke's voice comes back over the radio, and he could swear it's the best thing he's ever heard. He actually closes his eyes for a moment, and lets the sound of her relieved happiness soothe his frantic heartbeat.

Then he realises she's trying to apologise, and he cuts her off. "Hey, none of that. We haven't got time. You're forgiven, OK? You're forgiven, and I wish we'd talked it out properly before I left."

"I wish I'd come with you."

"No. I'm happy you're there. You'll be safer there, less chance of anything going wrong. And it's great that you're with O and you two can look out for each other."

"I'll take good care of her. I promise."

"You'd better take good care of yourself, too." He tells her firmly.

She gives a short and slightly hysterical laugh. "I'll try. Really. You too, Bellamy, OK? You have to come home in one piece."

"I will do. I'll be there in five years, and you'd better have a decent meal waiting for us because I hear we'll be living off algae."

Another burst of laughter. "I wish we had more time to talk. I wanted to -"

The line goes dead. Of course it does. He's never lucky.

He whispers one last thought into the silence all the same. One thought that he knows is going to wear a hole in his heart for the next five years.

"I wish I'd kissed you goodbye."

…...

It's stupid, but Clarke cannot stop smiling. She's still living in a hole in the ground, and the death wave is still approaching them – or presumably engulfing them at this very moment, given the radio just cut out. And she's still going to spend five years separated from Bellamy, who it turns out she maybe definitely loves.

But he's speaking to her again – or he would be, if they could actually speak – and he's forgiven her, and that gives her hope that it's going to be OK. Things mostly do turn out OK, more or less, as long as the two of them are on the same side.

"I told you so." Octavia comes right out and says it, smiling a slightly sad smile.

Clarke nods, and tries not to look inappropriately happy. It is, quite literally, the end of the world, and she is probably not supposed to look overwhelmed with joy just because her best friend doesn't currently hate her very guts.

She stands up and attempts to look useful.

"I should go see if I'm needed in medical." She decides.

"You mean you weren't just here to keep me company? You were waiting to speak to my brother all this time? Huh." Clarke could swear Octavia is teasing, which is an unexpected development given she was leaving her out to die, just twenty-four hours ago.

Time moves strangely, on the ground and under it, in her experience.

…...

Bellamy is convinced that this has been the longest day of his life. He hasn't slept in perhaps sixty hours, but he still stays up long enough to try the radio when they arrive at the Ring.

"Get some sleep, Bellamy." Raven recommends, exasperated. "We got the oxygen and water on. Everything else can wait."

"Not this." He insists, picking up the handset.

"You said the radio cut off when the radiation hit them. You're not going to get through."

"Just let me try. Do you think this works?"

"Yeah, pretty sure." She fiddles with something, mutters a number he doesn't understand. "Yeah, it's working. But they won't receive it, I'm telling you."

"I have to try."

He expects another sarcastic and snippy Raven retort. She is short-tempered enough at the best of times, and after a long day and a stressful time with the oxygen scrubber, he figures she ought to be in a particularly poor mood.

She surprises him with a gentle smile. "Good luck, Bellamy. I know they'll reply if they can."

…...

Clarke plays with the radio, now and then, but it doesn't do her any good. Jaha actually does her the favour of taking a look at it, and confirms that it's transmitting, but that he would expect the radiation to block the signal.

"You might have better luck with the laser comm." He suggests.

She follows his advice, then, and tries the laser comm every evening. But Bellamy either isn't getting her messages or doesn't fancy replying to her, and based on their frantic reconciliation the day the death wave hit, her money is on the first of those two options. She's pretty convinced he'd be speaking to her if he could.

And Octavia, of course. Octavia will always be his priority, she reminds herself.

She finds a different way of feeling close to him when it becomes clear she isn't going to be able to speak to him. The death wave has burnt itself out, above them, as far as their readings show. The radiation levels are still off the charts, but a committed scout in a hazmat suit could certainly survive a short visit to collect data and have a look around, if they wanted to.

She wants to. She very much wants to.

She's got this idea, see. She remembers learning at school that the Ark orbited the Earth at such a rate that it passed above the land formerly known as the United States about once every forty minutes. And she's no engineer, but she reckons the Geo-Sci Ring must still be moving much the same.

She even has a go at working out when she expects it to pass by. Engineering might not be her calling in life, but she didn't become a medical apprentice on the Ark without having a thorough understanding of maths and science.

When she's feeling reasonably confident, she presents her plan to Octavia – or rather, she presents some of it. She leaves out the parts that make her sound like a delusional, lovestruck fool.

"I want to go up topside and take some readings. Temperature, radiation level, that kind of thing. It should help the engineering department."

Octavia is trying to read a report and doesn't seem interested. "So send an engineer."

"I _want_ to go." Clarke insists. "I'm a nightblood, that might offer me some protection."

Octavia does look up, now, and frowns. "Sure. Whatever. You can do it. When are you going?"

"Tonight. About ten. Could you open the door for me?"

"You want to go take readings at night?" Octavia narrows her eyes, and Clarke gets the feeling she can see right through her.

"Yeah. Will you do the door?" She needs a co-conspirator, because it takes two people to open that door. It's a fact she is sure she will never forget, since that day the two people she loves the most in the world conspired together for that purpose.

Octavia nods, and gets back to her reading.

By the time the night rolls around, Clarke is fizzing with excitement. She doesn't know she'll see the Ring go by, of course. And she will only be able to pick it out if her friends have managed to get the light on.

That's tantamount to saying she'll only be able to see it if they're not dead.

No, she's feeling optimistic. She dons her hazmat suit and makes it through the doors. She remembers to take an assortment of scientific instruments with her as cover for her strange errand. And then she steps outside, and she looks up at the night sky.

Her friends don't keep her waiting long. There it is, just at the time she expected it, a pinprick of light streaking across the night sky, just barely visible to the naked eye.

She sure hopes she can wish on this kind of shooting star.

She allows herself a smile at that, remembering Bellamy and a set of flares, and one of their first civil conversations. And as she looks up at the light and thinks of him now, she wishes that she'll get to stand by his side like that again. She designs a scene in her mind's eye – the two of them, arms brushing, huddled about a camp fire. A bit of gentle teasing, and maybe some forceful kissing.

She stands there, and gazes at the heavens, and keeps wishing with all her heart until his star streaks by once more.

…...

Bellamy would give anything for this damn radio to work. It's his greatest wish, right now, a desire even deeper than his desperation to eat literally anything other than algae. They've been here three months, and he's tried this radio every single day, and he still hasn't heard Clarke's voice.

Or Octavia's. She's important to him, too. Of course she is – he loves his sister. Only he wasn't half way through a conversation with her when they got cut off. He doesn't have unfinished business with Octavia.

So it is that he calls them both every day, but really he is calling Clarke. And sometimes for a bit of variety he stands at windows, too, stands and gazes down at the scorched Earth and imagines he can pick Polis out amongst the wreckage.

His reverie is interrupted by a new arrival in the room.

"You still here?" Raven asks, brash and tactless, but he knows that asking the question at all is her way of showing she cares.

"Yeah." He tries for a carefree shrug. He's kept trying on the radio for a little longer than usual, tonight. He just really misses her voice today, OK?

Raven sighs and sits down next to him. "Take a break, Bellamy. Please? I get that you have to do this. I'm not going to try to stop you. But a coping mechanism is only healthy if it's not taking over your life."

He nods. This isn't taking over his life, or anything. He's only been here a couple of hours. And sure, that is quite a long time, but it's not as if he has much else to do up here.

"She's thinking about you, too. I'm sure of it." Raven tells him with a sad smile.

He wishes he could be sure of that, too.

…...

Clarke keeps making her fictitious scouting expeditions to the ground. They're not completely built of lies, in her defence – she does actually collect the readings in between staring at the sky and waving at a man who cannot see her. She needs to keep her cover so she can maintain the habit.

The problem with needing cover, is that she can't go out there every single evening. That would arouse too much suspicion. So she aims for once a week, but realistically ends up going every three or four days.

Today, she's lasted a whole five days without cracking and going to watch her favourite shooting star, and she's almost proud of herself. Or at least, she would be, if she wasn't so stressed and cranky and worried that the Ring might have somehow fallen from the sky since she last watched it soar past her.

"Are you not going scouting tonight?" Octavia asks her as they sit in the office and pretend to read reports. It is a little past ten, and Clarke is forcing herself not to make a run for the door.

"I haven't decided." She says, trying to sound casual about the whole thing.

"You've not been up there for five days." Clarke looks up sharply. Is Octavia counting?

"I might go." She hedges.

"Go for it, if you want to." Octavia sounds rather more _encouraging_ than her usual brisk tone. "Honestly, Clarke, go as often as you want. I never mind opening the door for you."

"OK." Clarke gets to her feet, aware that she looks far too eager. "I'll get going then."

Octavia grins and stands, too, moving towards the computer to get the door controls. "Great. Wave at him for me, will you?"

Clarke doesn't even muster a shred of surprise. She is almost impossible to shock, after this long on the ground.

She simply gives Octavia a bright smile as she agrees to her request.

"Of course I will. I always do."

…...

Bellamy knows it's a stupid idea, but he likes to think that he's always had a special talent for stupid ideas. Or at least for ideas that Clarke would describe as ill-thought-through or risky or downright idiotic.

Raven told him the radio he's been using all these months was working. That's the radio in the Earth Monitoring Station. She swore it was working, but that the women he loves on the ground couldn't receive the message.

But it's just occurred to him that there's another radio, up here. There's a radio in the rocket they flew here in. And he knows that he's being foolish, and that there's no way they would hear him on one radio when they couldn't hear him on another that's working just fine.

But he has to try.

He goes one morning, when everyone else is busy with their tasks. Raven is trying to fix something or another, and Emori is helping her. Murphy has taken to running to algae farm better than anyone would have expected, and Echo is most likely hiding in her room and trying not to bother anyone. She seems to worry a lot about causing them trouble.

He hasn't been in the hanger bay since they unloaded the rocket on arrival. It's eerie – vast, and echoing, and it feels like he's trespassing on someone else's land.

He reaches the ship, and settles himself inside. Reaches for the radio, switches it on, and starts to talk.

"This is the Ring, calling the Polis bunker. Can anyone hear me?"

Silence.

"Bellamy, calling Clarke and Octavia. Are you there?"

Silence.

"Anyone?"

That's it. That's the moment he realises he really will have to go five years without hearing their voices. There is no other radio on this space station, so he has no other hope of getting through to them. Dejected, and crying more than he has any right to cry over such a stupid idea, he reaches out to switch off the radio.

That's when he sees it. That's when he sees the label next to the radio. The label that reads _laser comm_.

Now, he's no expert in engineering. But he seems to remember that's a type of communications device, too.

He has to try. He'll just try it. And then, when that doesn't work either, he'll give up and go pretend to help Murphy with the algae.

He switches it on, and starts to talk.

"The is the Ring, calling the Polis bunker. Can anyone hear me?"

Silence.

"Bellamy, calling Clarke and Octavia. Please tell me you can -"

"Big brother?"

That's her. That's Octavia, his little sister, and that's really her voice. He actually jumps to his feet in excitement, then realises the rocket is rather too small to allow him to do so.

"O! O, it's me! I can't believe I got through to you."

"It's so good to hear your voice, Bell. We've been trying to get through ever since the death wave."

"I only just found the laser comm. I'm so sorry, I wish I'd found it sooner."

"Hey, that's OK. Better late than never. How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. We all are. How are you?"

"I'm doing OK. It's tough, but Clarke's been brilliant." Octavia tells him, sounding almost proud of her for it.

"I knew you two would look out for each other." He swallows down the lump in his throat. "Is she there?"

Octavia laughs, reassuringly carefree for the leader of the human race. "She's in med bay. Miller ran to fetch her the moment we heard your voice."

"I would have liked to talk to him too."

"But you want to speak to her more." She points out.

He doesn't bother to disagree. He sees no sense in lying about it. And he sees no sense in arguing about anything much, today, the day that his luck has finally taken a turn for the better.

…...

Clarke is in med bay sorting through their stock of surgical dressings when Miller bursts into the room, panting as if he has run a marathon.

He doesn't bother greeting her, just gets straight to the point.

"Bellamy's on the laser comm. He got through! He's speaking to Octavia right now."

Clarke sucks in an urgent breath and tries not to lose her mind. This is good news, of course, but she is a mature young adult and not going to behave like an overexcited child. With infinite care, she sets the bandage she is holding back in its place on the shelf. They cannot afford to waste medical supplies.

She thanks Miller with muted enthusiasm and with as much dignity as she can muster.

And then she gets on with sprinting to Octavia's office as fast as her legs will carry her.

She arrives to the sound of Bellamy's voice and the sight of Octavia's smile. They are both things that have been missing from her life, of late, and she is glad that they appear to have returned. Practising patience, she takes a seat at Octavia's side and waits her turn.

She doesn't have to wait very long.

"Clarke's here." Octavia says, the moment her butt has touched the chair. "I'll get out of here and leave you two to catch up."

That's a bit unnecessary, Clarke thinks. There's no reason why they should need privacy – it's not like Bellamy's about to declare his undying love for her or anything.

No, that's something that only happens in her dreams.

"Hey." Bellamy greets her, the syllable somehow holding more warmth than she thinks should really be possible.

"Hey. How are you? How's Raven? How are Murphy and Emori?" The questions tumble out of her as she gives up on any pretence of keeping her cool.

She can hear his smile when he speaks. "We're all good. Echo too. I guess I never told you she was coming along."

" _Echo_?"

"Yeah. Look, it's a long story and I'll tell you another time. I want to hear about you."

How bizarre, that he should want to hear about her. He must realise nothing much happens in her life, down here. "I'm fine. Helping your sister, working in med bay. I want to hear more about you." She throws it back at him.

He laughs. "I've missed arguing with you."

"Same. I've missed this so much."

She hears him suck in a breath. "Look. I meant to tell you something, that day when the death wave hit and we got cut off. And I've been telling myself I'd tell you as soon as I got to speak to you again, but I don't want you to freak out, OK?"

Now that's mysterious. "Sure. Whatever it is, I won't freak out."

"Great. I -" He stops, and she thinks she can hear a gulp.

"Bellamy?" Is he OK? What on Earth can be so difficult to tell her?

"It's – it's about the day I drove to the island to get Raven. And you stayed behind. And I just – I really wish I'd kissed you goodbye."

She is silent for a moment, trying to decide whether he really said that, or whether she has perhaps managed to hallucinate this entire conversation. Maybe wishing on passing space stations is the first sign of madness, and hearing someone you love who's several thousand miles away say that they wish they'd kissed you is the second.

"Clarke? You said you wouldn't freak out." He sounds absolutely mortified.

"I'm not freaking out." She tries to reassure him. "I'm just trying to decide whether this is real or I'm hallucinating."

"And that's your definition of _not freaking out_? Do you ever listen to a word I say?"

She's missed this. She's missed it so damn much there are tears rolling down her cheeks.

"You know what, Bellamy? I wish we'd kissed then, too."

…...

Bellamy is happy.

It didn't ought to be that straightforward, he's pretty sure. His sister is still leading the remains of the human race in a hole in the ground. And the woman he loves is thousands of miles away and very much beyond the reach of his kisses.

But she did say she was interested in kissing him, so that's something. And both of the women who mean the world to him are alive, and well, and now he can speak to them whenever he wants.

So, yes, he's happy. In fact, he's pretty sure he's never been this happy in his life before. But maybe that's not saying much, given his life to date hasn't exactly been the easiest.

He tries not to spend every minute of his day on the laser comm. For starters, he restricts himself to times when Clarke and Octavia might reasonably be expected to be awake. And he still does his chores about the place, although Echo seems to have adopted a disconcerting habit of trying to volunteer every time he's on washing up duty so he gets ten minutes longer to chat to Clarke.

He's not complaining. Getting to actually see Clarke in person and kiss her might be at the very top of his wish list, but an extra ten minutes listening to her voice definitely comes in second place.

…...

Clarke doesn't tell Bellamy about her stargazing trips right away. She feels a bit pathetic for being shy about it, seeing as he told her about wanting to kiss her the very moment they started speaking. But somehow, she can't find the right time to tell him, even as she continues to venture above ground to watch him pass by every couple of days.

Weeks turn into months, and edge into years, until it feels too late to tell him now. It feels too late, but she wants to do it all the same.

"Do you think he knows? About my scouting trips?" She asks Octavia. It's a somewhat silly question that she's not proud of, but Octavia's the closest thing to a best friend she's got down here.

"I've never told him." Octavia says, settling into a comfy chair for a rare moment of doing not much.

"That's not what I asked."

Octavia is too perceptive to miss her point. "I'm not sure. He knows you love him, even if he never says it. He must realise you were doing something to hold onto him."

Clarke doesn't bother arguing about whether she loves him. She does, and Octavia knows it.

She just hopes Bellamy knows it too.

That's what makes her mind up, in the end. He deserves to know she loves him, but she's not quite ready to say it in words just yet. So she figures telling him about her little stargazing ritual is a fair place to start.

"There's something I need to tell you." She begins, that evening.

"This sounds ominous." She gets the impression he is nervous.

"It's not a bad thing." She rushes to assure him. "Or at least, I don't think it is. It's just – there's something I've been too shy to tell you for a while now." She takes a deep breath. She's Clarke Griffin, and if she can lead armies, she can sure as hell show Bellamy how much he means to her.

Only the people who are important to her tend to die, a panicked voice in the back of her mind points out. That's not her being foolish – it's a genuine pattern, consistent and regular, and she'd be mad to tempt fate again.

"Clarke? Whatever it is, I won't freak out. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

She gives a nervous smile, even though he can't see it. "I watch you sometimes. I started before you got through to speak to us. A couple of times a week I put on a hazmat suit and go up topside so I can watch the Ring pass by. And I make wishes when I see it, like on a shooting star, you remember that time with the flares?"

"I remember." He whispers, on the very edge of hearing.

"So that's what I wanted to tell you."

He is silent for a moment, and she can imagine his jaw working.

"Thanks, Clarke." He says at last. "That's not – I wish I could think of a better way of saying it. But thank you for telling me. Thank you for caring about me that much." He pauses again. "But you'd better not have an accident while you're outside, you hear me? I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"Same to you. That's why I do it. So I can wish that you'll be OK."

"I don't have any shooting stars up here, but if I did, I'd be wishing you'd stay safe, too." He says, and she can hear that he means it. "I'm never going to beat that for romance, am I?" He asks to her confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been wandering around a wasteland to look up and watch me pass by. I think that's as romantic as anything could be, when we're thousands of miles apart, and I live on a space station, and you live in a hole in the ground."

She gives a small laugh, but moves on to a thought that has been bothering her. "I wish I'd come with you to the island that day. We'd be together right now."

"As long as you stay safe I don't regret it." He pauses, corrects himself. "I regret wasting time being angry with you. But as long as you stay safe, and we get to be together in three years' time, I'll have everything I could ever wish for."

…...

Bellamy is proud of the family they have managed to pull together on the Ring. Murphy has surprised them all with his dedication to farming, and he admits to Bellamy one evening that he quite likes to have a useful skill and be valued for it. He hasn't felt appreciated like this before, he explains. Emori has proven to be quite the engineering protegee, and helps Raven out all the time. And Echo and Bellamy perform an ongoing assortment of chores, everything from doing the dishes to helping Murphy on the farm.

So they managed to keep things working, and that's one thing. But it's quite another matter that they have managed to become a close-knit group of friends. These are not the people Bellamy would have chosen to be stranded with – except, perhaps, for Raven. But somehow it works all the same.

He was always close with Raven, and he grows ever closer. She and Echo are basically his best friends, now, he reckons. They both have a sharp wit and fiery spirit that reminds him a little of his sister, and even more of Clarke. They're bright like Clarke, too, taking in everything about the world around them with a critical gaze. It makes them good company, as they balance out his tendency to reckless over-enthusiasm.

But neither of them has Clarke's human warmth, nor cares so deeply for other people. And so it is that, every time Raven makes a sharp observation, or Echo tells him to use his goddamn head for once, he finds himself missing her all over again.

This is a bad day. It's not Raven's fault – she didn't mean to set him off. She just said something about how one of these days his temper was going to get him into trouble, and so now he's stalking down the hallway remembering one particular time his temper did get him into trouble. Remembering the day of the death wave, and letting the sun set on his wrath at Clarke, and regretting it so much it still hurts to this day.

"Clarke." He just says her name straight into the laser comm. Either she will pick up, or his sister or Miller or Indra will pick up and send for her right away.

"Bellamy." It is her voice, and immediately he feels the edges of his self-loathing start to soften.

"Hey. Sorry, I know it's the middle of the day. I just needed to talk to you."

"That's OK. What did you need to tell me?"

"Nothing, really." He swallows with difficulty. "I just needed to talk to you, you know? Not to say anything, but to hear your voice."

"I get that. Want me to tell you about my day?" She offers.

"Please." It's things like this which make him love her, he thinks. There she is, running the bunker alongside his sister, but she still has a moment to help him out.

"So I spent the morning at the hydrofarm with Monty. He's a genius. You know we were worried about the soybean crop? Well, he's fixed it. Brewed some special algae that's high in nitrogen and got it flourishing again."

Bellamy gives a careful chuckle. "Algae, huh? You should borrow some of ours."

"I think we're good, thanks. Soybeans aren't great, but I guess they're better than algae. How's Murphy doing?"

"Yeah, great. Still obsessed with his farm. I swear every time Emori thanks him for making supper he blushes." He tries for a joke, aware that it is not his best, but glad that Clarke makes him feel able to joke at all when he was feeling so low just a few short minutes ago.

"Now that's something I'd like to see."

"You will, Clarke. You'll see it just as soon as we get home."

…...

Clarke knows she's being silly. And she doesn't like being silly – she prefers to be sensible, and make logical decisions.

But she's never really been that good at _sense_ where Bellamy is concerned.

It's just that she can't help but worry that he's spending an awful lot of time with two very single and very beautiful women, up there. Two very single and very beautiful women with whom he is evidently very close friends, just to make it worse.

She ignores her jealousy, carefully and for a long time. She ignores it for several months, in fact.

She ignores it until Octavia says something that deprives her of the very last shreds of her good sense.

"I never would have imagined my brother and Echo becoming such good friends. I mean, I never imagined her turning out to be a decent human being either. It just keeps surprising me. It shouldn't though, right? He didn't get on with you at first, and now look at you."

Clarke swallows very carefully. "Do you think they're more than friends?"

Octavia looks at her as if she has lost her mind. To be fair, she does seem to misplace it quite often, when Bellamy is involved.

"Clarke. You're not seriously asking me that? Why on Earth would he start something with her when he knows you're down here waiting for him?"

"She's very beautiful. And kind of badass."

"And yet he's still in love with you."

Clarke hums a little. "You don't know that."

"I do know that. Everyone in this goddamn bunker except you knows that, Clarke."

She decides to ignore Octavia, and get back on with pursuing her concerns. "And then there's Raven. He's always been close with Raven. Didn't they sleep together one time?"

"Clarke. You're being silly, and it doesn't suit you. Go put your hazmat suit on and wave at my idiot brother."

She does as Octavia orders. She did win the conclave, after all.

…...

Bellamy knows it's a silly and self-indulgent thing to ask. But judgement has never been his strong suit, and he's been waiting his whole life for an opportunity to pursue what he wants for a change, so he asks it anyway.

"Do you still open the door and watch us go past sometimes?" It's just that she hasn't mentioned it for a while, and he hates to think she's gone off him, or something.

"Of course I do. And wish for you to come home safe."

"That's good." He hesitates, and wonders whether what he's about to say is wise. What does it matter? She didn't exactly choose him for his wisdom, he's pretty sure. "I really can't wait to get home and kiss you."

"You, too. It's going to be the most long-awaited kiss in human history." She tells him, and he can hear her smile.

"I think Odysseus and Penelope have us beaten."

She laughs a little, and he can just picture her lips twisting with joy. "If you're going to start talking about Greeks, I'm going to give up and hang up on you."

She doesn't of course. She's never given up on him, even when he deserved it.

…...

Clarke is trying so hard not to fret about Echo and Raven. Really she is. But it's difficult, and she can't mention it to Octavia since that time she made it quite clear she has no interest in hearing it, and she can't mention it to Bellamy for fear of sounding like a jealous shrew.

She's so desperate she briefly considers discussing it with Monty, but she discards the idea almost immediately. Monty is a good friend, loyal and steadfast, but he has little patience with people who would rather talk about relationships than tomatoes.

It doesn't help, either, that Bellamy talks about his two beautiful, single friends in ever warmer tones. He just cannot seem to stop singing their praises, for everything from their card-playing skills to their fighting moves.

At last, she cracks.

"I get it, Bellamy. Really I do. They're perfect, OK?" She snaps at him one day.

"Where's this coming from, Clarke? Are you feeling alright?"

"Great, just great."

"What's wrong?" That, she decides, is an impossible question.

"Nothing's wrong."

She can hear him sigh. And then, somehow, he proceeds to read her mind and allay her fears. "Is this a good moment to remind you I can't wait to kiss you? And that I've never found myself wishing I could kiss either Raven or Echo?"

"You haven't?"

"Of course I haven't, Clarke. Why would I be interested in anyone else when I know you'll be waiting for me when we land? I've got a future to look forward to with you."

That'll do it, she decides. That's what she needed to hear, to put this stupid petty jealousy to bed.

It achieves even more than that, actually. It gets her thinking about the bigger picture. Surely the only reasonable explanation for him saying something like that is that he has quite strong feelings for her? In fact, she'd be reasonably willing to say that his statement was at least half way to implying he loved her. And even if he's only _half_ in love with her, she reckons that's enough that he shouldn't be too freaked out if she tells him how she feels about him, right?

Yes. That makes sense. She's happy with her conclusion.

"Clarke?" Bellamy sounds worried, and she realises she's been stewing in thoughtful silence for a little too long.

"Sorry. Just thinking."

"Care to share?" Actually, yes. She thinks it's about time she told him.

"I love you."

"I love you, too. So much." He repeats the words right back at her without leaving so much as half a heartbeat's pause.

Well, then. That only took them four years.

…...

It's a year until landing day when Bellamy starts the countdown. He knows that's too far in advance, and he knows Clarke would laugh at him if she were here for being a sentimental fool. But he's _her_ sentimental fool, so she'd follow it up with a kiss and a declaration of love, he likes to think.

His countdown takes the form of a datapad displaying the number of days, perched above his bed. Nearer the time he thinks he'll change it to hours, probably. A day is too long, and gives him time to stew in thoughts and dreams and wishes. But an hour is a good amount of time. He can easily distract himself for an hour, with a book or a game of cards.

He doesn't mean to tell Clarke about the countdown. Really he doesn't. But he's always been a little too impulsive for his own good.

"I started counting down the days." The words slip from his lips in a brief lull in their conversation. He doesn't bother explaining which days he is counting down – he knows that she knows.

She is silent for a long time, and he begins to wonder what he did wrong.

Then she speaks, and it all makes sense. "I did that, too."

Well, then. She must love him quite a lot, to lose her head like that, he reckons.

…...

The last year flies past the most quickly, in a blur of wishing upon her favourite shooting star, and working too hard in med bay, and living for Bellamy's calls. She's proud of how well she's coped, all this time. She's proud of every one of them, from John Murphy with his algae farm, to little Ethan hardy, her best student of human biology. Octavia has made a success of leading these people, more than Clarke could ever have imagined. She has taken the best parts of grounder culture, their commitment and unity, and blended it with the education and pragmatism that characterise Skaikru, and created a Wonkru that will change the world for the better, when they are allowed to venture beyond these walls.

Octavia keeps trying to give Clarke the credit, but she won't have it. She did not win the conclave, and this was not her vision. All she did was back her leader up as best she could.

The calendar reads four years, eleven months and seventeen days when Clarke ventures out in her hazmat suit for the last time. They've been thinking for a couple of months now that the radiation was on course to die down to safe levels just slightly before the five year mark, and she is delighted to find, today, that this is indeed the case.

She rushes back inside and calls Bellamy right away.

"Jaha was right. You can come home now." She tells him.

"That's great news, Clarke. We'll fly tomorrow."

"I'll see you then." She can feel her cheeks glowing with joy.

Now all she has to do is pray that they get here safe and well.

…...

Bellamy concentrates on packing the rocket with the same painstaking care he employed whilst preparing to take off five years ago. He focuses closely on each and every task, because everything needs to be done perfectly if they are to survive the landing.

He concentrates on it, too, because it seems more productive than thinking about Clarke.

He just can't wait to see her again. He can't wait to feel her lips under his, can't wait to feel the warmth of her in his arms. And most of all he can't wait to be able to see the look on her face when he tells her he loves her, rather than only whispering the words into space.

"You ready to go?" Emori asks him, growing into her role as Raven's co-pilot.

"Nearly. Can I say goodbye to Clarke, first? Just in case."

"Your confidence is inspiring." Raven joins the party with her cynical wit. "Go for it. Tell her we'll be there within the hour."

Echo joins the group, frowning and ready to chastise them gently. "Stop standing around, guys. We need to do the oxygen tanks. Leave Bellamy to talk to Clarke in peace."

Raven does exactly what Echo asks, he notices with a grin. That's been happening a lot, lately. Maybe he ought to wish for his friends' happiness together, next time he sees a shooting star.

…...

Clarke is standing above ground with a small crowd, waiting for the rocket to land. Octavia is here, of course, as well as Miller and Jackson and Abby and Kane. She's pleasantly surprised to see, though, that a number of other people have joined the party. A few former Azgeda warriors are here to express their eagerness to see Echo, and Clarke thinks that's a nice gesture.

Then they see the rocket start streaking through the atmosphere, and she stops thinking of anything beyond her desperate desire to see it land safely. She wishes for a perfect landing, wishes it harder than she has ever wished for anything in her life before.

She doesn't know if a person can wish upon this kind of shooting star, but she damn well intends to do it anyway.

They do land safely, and she breathes a sigh of relief. She doesn't stand around rejoicing for long, though, because she has better things to do. Things like running towards the rocket and opening her arms as Bellamy tumbles through the open door.

She hugged Bellamy a few times, back before the death wave. But never has she hugged him quite like this, squeezing him so tight she fears she might break something, smashing her lips eagerly into the soft skin of his neck.

"You're home." She mutters, although it comes out garbled.

"You're here." He murmurs, and she can feel his lips against her skin.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

She pulls back, then, to kiss him. It's been a long time coming, this kiss, and she cannot help but have high expectations.

She is overjoyed when those high expectations are exceeded. His lips and tongue are so warm and inviting, so delightfully curious as he explores her mouth. He manages to make her feel thoroughly desired, yet when he pulls back out of deference to the situation and audience she is left craving more, feeling that this kiss has been a tantalising taste of things to come.

"You OK?" He asks, drawing away just far enough to meet her eyes.

"Of course I am. I've got you back safe and sound and in my arms." She points out, burying her face into his shoulder again.

He makes an agreeing sort of noise, and tells her what she's been waiting five years to hear.

"This is everything I've ever wished for."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
